


Be In My Book

by bmvagawood



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Like technically canon world but very much in the future where magic and gods faded from time, M/M, mollys pov and hes a lovesick fool, more m9 ships but not super prominent so dont wanna clog up the other tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-12
Updated: 2019-01-12
Packaged: 2019-10-08 17:19:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17390474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bmvagawood/pseuds/bmvagawood
Summary: To all the terribly nosy (full name being Beauregard Lionett), Molly’s adamant that his interest in Caleb is from wanting to see what’s hidden behind that shell. Much like Molly remembered from that one class, Caleb’s terribly quiet, even a month in, and he typically hovers back with Yasha whenever the group does what they do best: stupid shit. But Molly knows he isn’t crazy and that there’s something interesting beneath the shabby coat and five o’clock shadow. He just needs to find a way through.(Originally started as a series of first meetings, then just kept going, so who knows. I sure don't.)





	Be In My Book

I.

Trostenwald is known as the only rural town with a high school that’s not only 95% human. At least that’s why Gustav says he picked it as a place to open his foster home. It’s a quiet town, boring but not a bad place to grow up when Molly and Yasha used to sleep on the streets of some uncaring city. Gustav’s home has a reputation of being full of ‘problem strays’, but it also means nobody fucks with them. Especially when they see Bosun and Yasha training in the yard.

Molly is in the middle of telling a story to Yasha while walking backwards through the hall. He’s so used to everyone noticing him first and getting out of the way that he never looks behind him. Molly notices too late that he should have; Yasha’s eyes suddenly flick over to the right and her mouth opens just as his back collides with something soft and small. They’re both sent tumbling to the ground in a mess of limbs and bags, groaning and cursing. He’s pretty sure the dull pain crawling up his spine is from landing partially on his tail.

“Sorry, sorry,” Molly’s saying already as he peels himself off the gross linoleum floors and looks at his unfortunate victim.

The victim, a human and still mostly sprawled out, focuses on frantically checking his massive book. “ _Zum Glück_ ,” he mutters in relief before hugging it to his chest. His shoulder length reddish-brown hair hides his face, but he’s pretty small and skinny, maybe about a few inches shorter than Molly.

Molly shoots a _what the fuck_ look at Yasha, who only shrugs, before moving to offer a hand. “Here, the longer you stay down there, the more disease you’re gonna catch.”

Almost like he hadn’t known Molly was even there, the kid flinches and looks up. The first thing Molly notices are his eyes; he’s pretty sure he’s never seen eyes that color of royal blue before. They blink up at Molly for a second before the guy takes Molly’s hand.

Once he’s up, the human brushes the dust off his gray hoodie and offers an awkward nod at them both. “Sorry, wasn’t look where I was going,” he offers in a quiet voice and Molly notes the thick accent as one he’s never heard before. The kid shuffles a little in place, glancing around them. “Um… _danke_.” Then he’s off, rushing into the sea of anxious high schoolers trying to get to class.

“Come on, Molly.” Yasha’s hand is on his shoulder and Molly realizes he’s just standing there, staring at where the guy vanished into the crowd. “We can find out his name later, maybe Toya knows.”

Molly laughs and shakes his head, looping his arm around hers. “Don’t worry about it! Just never seen him before is all. Did you see that brick he was carrying?” It’s only in Algebra that he googles ‘blue eyes’ on his phone under the desk and scrolls through images for the rest of the period. Molly never sees any picture with eyes that shade nor spots the guy again, and forgets him entirely.

 

II.

Molly and Yasha get into a pretty damn good university based on their alright grades and outstanding extracurricular, if he had to be honest. Well, probably just because of their athletics. Yasha, in his unbiased opinion, carries her weightlifting team while he brings some needed life to the gymnastics club. Of course, neither of them care to go professional so Yasha only goes to competitions while Molly is called if one of the team members is unable to go.

At first, it’s hard to be far from the home. Trostenwald is a whole 7 hour drive from Zadash University, but they make sure to skype with their shitty internet and make fun of Gustav over the phone whenever he gets choked up. Molly and Yasha also try to take as many classes together as possible, but they can only have so many general ed courses. Molly learns quick that college is hell, especially when you don’t have your friend with you.

It’s in one of Molly’s courses, something about Psychology, where he meets Widogast. Well, sort of. He only knows him at first because of their professor’s hatred of ‘the all-knowing Widogast’, a quiet guy who sits in the front and reads the whole class. Widogast is the class martyr, taking the brunt of every question and answering easily, if softly and accented. A Zeminian accent, apparently, the professor had identified the first day. Widogast rattles off every psychologist and study their professor throws at him with such accuracy that Molly has taken to having a section of his notes titled ‘Widogast Teachings’. The passive battle between him and the professor keeps Molly at least a little entertained and only half bored out of his mind.

Molly never sees Widogast anywhere else but that class, though he also just hangs around the gym and the mall he works at. That mop of wavy red hair is already buried in a book by the time Molly gets to class and out the door the second the professor dismisses them.

 

It’s only by the end of the semester after they’re dismissed from their final that Molly decides to talk to him. He thinks the guy might be happy knowing he helped someone pass a hellish class. Plus, Molly's sure the girl next to him wants to kill him for fidgeting and bouncing his leg the whole time, so he races out of there.

“Widogast,” Molly calls, suppressing a laugh when the guy nearly drops his book that he had been reading for most of the final. But Widogast does stop and let Molly jog up to him. It’s a week before winter break and he’s mostly swallowed up by a thick trench coat and a woolen scarf. “Just wanted to say thanks.”

Widogast’s head tilts, messy hair parting to reveal a pair of striking blue eyes. “Thanks? For what?” He shifts a little, fidgeting with his messenger bag strap. Widogast seems to shrink a little upon seeing Molly, but he gets that a lot with the horns and red eyes.

Molly decides to show him, holding up a finger as he rummages through his bag to pull out his notebook. He flips through to find the most recent ‘Widogast Teaching’ and presents it to the man who had spoken it. Widogast steps closer to take it and study the writing. Molly finally makes out a pale face scrunched in concentration and scruffed, sharp jawline. _Well, smart and cute, hm?_

“Huh,” Widogast huffs in disbelief, reminding Molly that he’s part of an active conversation, “you actually listened to me.” He hands it back and fiddles with his bag strap again. “I thought everyone ignored me after a while.” There’s a delightful flush in his cheeks. Such a pale face looks adorable with some color, especially when it brings out his freckles.

Molly waves his hand. “Without you, I wouldn’t have passed! Reading the book was a pain in the arse.” He shudders, only half exaggerated. “Those blocks of text will haunt me.”

Widogast smiles a little, brightening his eyes. “Well, I am glad I helped. Erm, if you have trouble concentrating on text, you should consider the tutoring center.” He flushes again and recedes into his coat. “Not to imply anything, of course. But they have many study groups and you seem to learn better when someone‘s talking. Verbal learner.”

“Hm, I’ve never considered that before, I’ll have to check it out then-” Molly is interrupted by a loud buzzing and Widogast hisses something in a foreign language, pulling out an old model iPhone.

“ _Scheiße_ , sorry, I need to leave.” Widogast does sound apologetic and offers a small smile as he waves his free hand. “You’re welcome, uh have a nice day.” Then he’s off in a light jog, phone pressed to his ear, before Molly can ask for his name or number.

Molly finds himself hours later at his ratty apartment, loudly lamenting to Yasha about how Widogast had been cute all along. He does check out the tutoring center that week, dragging an awkward Yasha with him, and finds study groups, but never Widogast.

 

III.

Gustav, after seeing their worn out, Skype pixelated faces, suggests working at the Renaissance Faire a town over where he knows the director. The director, after seeing Yasha effortlessly swing a greatsword in full armor and Molly juggle a bunch of swords without fear, hires them on the spot. College, which doesn’t get less hellish, can’t even compare. They drop out before the start of their junior year. They're much happier, Molly's ADHD becomes more manageable with his new outlet and Yasha's nightmares nearly gone from less stress.

Molly and Yasha meet Jester and Beau the day they move into a much less shady apartment building, the pair knocking on their door with fresh muffins. They’re all fast friends, as Jester is a delight and Molly loves competing with Beau in who can dish out the worst childish insult. Fjord gets added to the mix not long after they start hanging out regularly; he’s the new transfer Jester’s been crushing on (and sketching often) and can do an incredible range of accents while knowing too many ocean fun facts.  It’s a good group and they get into a fun amount of trouble for a bunch of twenty-somethings.

 

Maybe about two months into weekly lunches at the Beau-Jester apartment, Beau announces she’s invited two friends. Jester immediately squeals, nearly scaring Fjord right off the armchair. She latches onto Yasha and drags her to the kitchen, gushing about baking something for a girl named Nott. Molly snides to Beau from where he’s sprawled on the couch, “I didn’t know you had any other than us.”

Beau roll her eyes and flips him off from her perch on the counter. “Fuck off, Molly. Caleb’s been my go-to partner in all my History classes. Dude's a shut-in and I thought he needs more friends.” She nails the center Fjord’s forehead with a tossed plastic spoon when he aww’s. Molly winces a little in sympathy while Yasha flashes a thumbs up.

“Ow, fuck, you’ve got a mean aim,” Fjord whines, rubbing his forehead. “Who’s Nott?”

Jester peeks out from the kitchen, horns and face dotted with flour. “Oh, she’s Caleb’s sister. She’s very small and my partner in crime! But I would watch your stuff, _especially_ you, Molly.”

Molly waves his empty hands; he even left his rings today. “Nothing on me but keys and phone, dear. If she manages to steal anything off my horns, I’d be impressed.”

“Tempting fate there, Moll,” Fjord drawls right as the doorbell rings.

Jester abandons her mixing bowl to race towards the door and throw it open. “Nott, Caleb, welcome!” Beau waves the rest of them to follow her and crowd the door where the tiefling is currently swinging around a small, hooded girl who’s giggling in her grasp. “Aw, I've missed you so much!”

“You saw her yesterday, Jester,” deadpans a male voice in the doorway and Molly perks up when he hears an unmistakable accent. He flails a hand at Yasha, who looks down at him with raised brows. He mouths, _Widogast_ , and she only stares for a second before her eyes widen just a smidge.

The girl is released after a few spins and the two are ushered, or rather, _yanked_ inside. When those blue eyes meet his own, Molly knows he wasn’t wrong. “Hey, Widogast,” he casually tosses in for good measure, grinning as Beau glances between them two like the nosy person she is. Molly can almost see Caleb’s ( _Caleb_ , nice name) mind searching as the blue flickers over his face.

Caleb nods, but it seems more to himself. “Ja, I remember you. You didn’t tell me your name, though.” Then he seems to remember everyone else, back stiffening as his eyes flit across the small crowd. “Oh, um, hallo, my name is Caleb Widogast and this is Nott.”

Nott, who was peering up at Molly, waves at everyone cheerfully. Without her face buried into Jester’s chest, Molly’s shocked to see she’s a goblin... for about a second. Then he supposes it’s pretty par for the course in a group of two tieflings, a half-orc, a human, and a Yasha; Gustav _has_ always said that weird sticks together.

Nott notices Yasha, tilting her head back and yellow cat-like eyes wide as saucers. “Wow, you’re big.”

Yasha cranes her neck to look down. Her face looks bored, but Molly notices the subtle twitches of a smile. “Yes… and you’re small.” She glances to Jester, who makes a _go on_ gesture. “Er, I’m Yasha.”

Fjord, bless him, steps up to wave with his signature polite smile that's greeted quite a number of security guards. “And I’m Fjord. It’s real nice to meet y’all and -uh - welcome.”

“Mollymauk, but Molly for short. Now come on, people, it’s getting cramped over here.” Molly pushes Fjord and Yasha along- well, presses against since moving Yasha is not a feat doable by mere mortals. But they get his memo and disperse into the apartment. Molly catches Caleb’s quiet exhale and the loosening of his shoulders, and feels a little smug at being right.

Molly slides over after Jester steals Nott away to try some batter. “I've always wanted to know something,” he says as smoothly as he can, leaning against the entryway, “what _is_  genius Widogast's major?”

Much like Yasha, Caleb wears an impassioned face, but there’s almost like this spark in his expression. A blink-and-you-miss-it kind of thing. Luckily, Molly’s pretty comfortable looking at Caleb and sees it was _excitement_.

“History, but I’m focusing on the ancient arcane,” Caleb explains automatically, probably the business card version that every college kid has prepared.

Molly gestures him over to the couch and takes the opportunity to flip off Beau, who was mouthing a _Seriously? Already?_   at him. He makes a mental note to hide her bo staff later. “The arcane, huh?” He winces internally at himself, the nerdy subject is kind of endearing, but he knows _nothing_ about it. “I only know what most do, like how us lucky ones with horns have some natural magic.” Molly shakes his head for good measure, letting his jewelry jangle.

“Very flashy.” Caleb smiles, which then turns a bit apologetic. “They look nice, but Nott will like them, so um word of warning.” His glance towards the kitchen, however, is completely fond. It’s a disgustingly sweet moment and makes Molly miss Toya.

“Don’t worry, Jester warned us. Just shiny, everyday kind of metal.” He flicks a charm for good measure and grins as Caleb relaxes more. “Nothing I’d miss.”

“Oh, _gut_ . So, tiefling, dragon, and elven blood do still have natural magic. But the arcane used to be so _vast_ and nobody knows why most has been lost over time. Post-Divergence, they-” As Caleb talks, the stone face facade just crumbles away and Caleb Widogast comes to life. He talks about how some scholars believe the elven, full blooded elven, exist hidden on another plane. How there used to be some priests so devoted to their gods that they were gifted magic to serve them. Caleb is especially interested in how the dragon blooded had powerful magical talent. He talks, sweeping out his hands and his scarf unraveling, and Molly actually listens (it surprises him too). Fjord joins them at one point, but there’s such a magnetic quality to Caleb’s passion that he hardly notices until Fjord asks a question.

It ends up being a pretty damn good lunch, one of the best they’ve had, in Molly’s humble opinion. (Nott absolutely snatches a little crescent charm right off his horn and they all applaud her when she presents it an hour later.)

 

IV.

To all the terribly nosy (full name being _Beauregard Lionett_ ), Molly’s adamant that his interest in Caleb is from wanting to see what’s hidden behind that shell. Much like Molly remembered from that one class, Caleb’s terribly quiet, even a month in, and he typically hovers back with Yasha whenever the group does what they do best: stupid shit. But Molly knows he isn’t crazy and that there’s something interesting beneath the shabby coat and five o’clock shadow. He just needs to find a way through.

“I’m pretty sure this is considered stalking,” Beau’s voice judges from his phone’s speakers.

“Nott _asked_.”

“She never said where he was, you fucking stalker.”

Molly rolls his eyes as he stops at a red light and peeks at his maps app. Only a mile away. “Oh shut up, there’s only one library on campus.”

“Surprised you would know where it is... Or did you look it up?”

“Good bye, unpleasant one,” Molly replies cheerily as he hangs up and continues driving, fingers drumming along the steering wheel.

Nott had gotten stuck at work and tentatively asked in the group chat if anyone was free to pick up Caleb. She’s gotten pretty comfortable with all of them, but Nott is clearly still protective of her boy (which she calls Caleb whenever he’s not in earshot). Molly had jumped at the chance; it’s his off day anyway, he assured her, so no big trouble really.

By the time he rolls up to campus, Molly easily spots a familiar bundle of coat by the library’s entrance. It makes him grin as he rolls down his window. “Caleb! Hey, Caleb! Over here!”

Caleb’s head whips up and the wide-eyed surprise makes Molly’s face hurt from how much his grin widens. “Mollymauk?” he asks once he’s close enough, loitering by the window with his bag held to his chest, “where’s Nott?” He even moves forward to see if Molly had a little goblin hidden in the backseat.

“Why don't you get in and check your phone?” Molly looks in his rear view mirror and grimaces. “Preferably before this Jeep decides to ram into me.”

Much to his surprise, Caleb does just that without hesitation, clambering in and looking only slightly bewildered. He swings his messenger bag onto his lap, letting out of a soft ‘oof’ as it lands, and pulls out a battered android phone. From the corner of Molly’s eye while he pulls away from campus, he sees Caleb’s eyebrows fly up.

“Wow, that’s a lot of messages,” Caleb mutters.

Molly chuckles, putting on his music again at low. “Yeah, welcome to the- what’s it called this time? Last I looked at it, it was the Traveler's Cult.”

“Still that. I assume it’s Jester’s idea?”

“Not a bad guess, but Beau’s joke actually. Jester’s adamant it’s not a cult, but we’re all a bit skeptical.”

Caleb’s laugh is a quiet thing, yet Molly feels a bubble of pride. “Ja, me too. When I first met her, she gave me a pamphlet and talked about hamster unicorns.”

“That’s Jester for you, our darling little cult leader. Now, you hungry?” Molly asks as he pulls into the McDonald's drive through line.

Caleb jolts a little, nearly dropping his phone. “Was- no, I’m fine," he insists, but his stomach growling is louder, and he turns pink when Molly raises an eyebrow at him. “I am! Either way, I don’t have any money on me.”

“I didn’t ask if you had money, I asked if you were hungry.” Molly's grin falls a little when Caleb only looks more confused. So he sighs and twists to look directly at him. “I’m paying and you probably haven’t eaten all day, so pick something.” Caleb’s mouth twists into a frown and opens to probably protest, but Molly’s faster. “If you don’t pick, I _will_   buy the entire value menu and chuck it at you," he says, holding up his wallet like a weapon.

With a grumble, Caleb does pick and they eat in the parking lot of a bookstore he directs them to. They’re quiet as they eat and Molly ignores Caleb’s slight glare to bob his head along to his music. Only when his finishes his burger does he ask, “Alright, what is it?”

“Why.”

Molly only sips his soda with an unimpressed look at the flat tone.

Caleb tries again, tone unchanged, “Why did you buy me food?”

“Gods, Caleb, you make it sound like a criminal offense.” The intense stare at the space by his head doesn’t lessen and he sighs. “Like it or not, you’re part of the group and we take care of each other,” Molly answers, playing with his straw.

“Then I’ll pay you back,” Caleb deadpans while glaring at the remnants of his fries.

Molly groans, restraining himself from face planting onto his wheel. “You dense- listen, you don’t _owe_ me. I did this-” he gestures at the food and his car, “because I wanted to, alright? You don’t have to pay me. I mean it, I’m repaid in you not keeling over and Nott not worrying.”

Caleb still looks wary, but he does nod, mollified. Molly tosses fries in his mouth and one smacks him in the forehead, which Caleb smiles at even if he tries to hide it. But it breaks the slight tension and they talk for a while, casual things like the new acts at the Faire and what Nott ‘found’ yesterday. It’s only a little awkward without the buffer of the rest of the group, but Caleb's a good listener and has enough snark to him to make Molly laugh quite a few times.

“Well, I think I brightened your day enough,” Molly announces, glancing down at the time on his phone, “if I take up more of your time, the shopkeep over there is going to be jealous, so shoo.”

“I can’t imagine why he’d be,” Caleb quips, but there’s a ghost of smirk on his lips as he gathers his stuff and gets out. Just as Molly starts the car, Caleb knocks on the window. A little confused, Molly rolls it down.

“Did you leave something?”

“Thank you, Mollymauk,” Caleb says, eyes bright even if his smile is shy. It really softens his face in a way that’s just lovely, erasing most of his exhaustion and leaving something handsome. “I enjoyed this.” And he pointedly walks away and disappears into the bookstore, leaving a speechless tiefling staring at a closed door.

Molly sits for a moment before shouting, “Hey Siri, CALL YASHA.”

 

V.

Becoming Caleb Widogast’s friend is an achievement known to very few. Many could believe they are; he is, contrary to probably his own belief, a charming individual. Molly is well aware of people’s glances and chooses often to not care. He knows how people look at Caleb.

Caleb is soft spoken and the definition of an introvert; he prefers to stay out of the spotlight but can hold a conversation easily if needed. People can think after such a talk that they’ve made a new friend - they would be absolutely wrong. Over the couple of months they’ve known each other, Molly has watched Caleb leave many social events having shared not one thing about himself. Even within their own group, he skirts discussions of family and they can go a few days without hearing from him until they decide it's time to drag him out.

Becoming Caleb’s friend requires time, care, and a few favors tossed in the mix and left to dry. Molly doesn't even realize he's done it until it smacks him in the face by month five. There’s no Nott in the corner popping off a bottle of champagne and deeming him officially fit for her boy. There’s no big confession nor party planned.

It’s just the two of them sat on Caleb’s couch, which Jester lovingly named Mister Lumpy. Molly has one of Caleb’s novel picks for him open on his lap, it has enough action and drama to get him through the text, and legs kicked up on the coffee table. Frumpkin is purring in the small space between him and Caleb, face resting on Molly’s thigh with Caleb’s hand buried in his fur.

The only warning is the sound of a book shutting before there’s a weight on Molly’s shoulder and a wave of parchment and coffee scent. He forces himself not to react, afraid to scare Caleb away, and it’s a real effort not to when Caleb’s warmth seems to sinks all the way into his chest.

“Would you like me to read it aloud?” Caleb asks softly because there’s no need for volume when he’s so close.

Molly knows there must be some reason behind why Caleb is so skittish, why earning his friendship takes a careful and determined hand, why he rarely relaxes. But he doesn’t care, maybe Caleb will tell him, maybe he won’t. Like he told Caleb before, he doesn’t want to be owed anything. It’s enough to see Caleb smiling with the group, laughing at their terrible jokes, and occasionally distracting a cop. Him letting his guard down around Molly? It’s a wonderfully, sweet plus. He's known for a while now that he's never just wanted to see past that shell, Caleb's been his friend since the moment he first walked through Jester and Beau's front door.

Molly smiles and rests his cheek against the messy reddish brown waves, careful of his own jewelry. “If you wouldn’t mind, dear.” _I would love nothing more_.

“Not at all.”

Nott, arms full of groceries, finds them a few hours later in the same position. She assures them both she can handle it herself, then waits for a second. Caleb settles again and continues reading, but Molly watches her from the corner of his eye. She stares in return before she gives him a firm nod. Nott then heads to the kitchen to put the groceries away, asking over her shoulder if Molly would like to stay for dinner.

He does stay and they have a wonderful time. Caleb brings out this thick book of recipes, all handwritten, which they follow with minimal distractions. (Molly manages to toss a boiled egg into Nott’s mouth from down the hallway and Caleb laughs until he wheezes and it’s _fantastic_.) They eat at the table and listen to Nott’s dramatic recounting of her adventure with Jester at the mall. Caleb listens to Nott rant about a stupid security guard with an open look of such pride and love. To anyone else, they seem like an odd mismatched pair, but Molly knows he’s looking at a family and it makes him smile.

When Nott goes to bed with a yawned goodnight, they’re left washing dishes. And Caleb, with suds up to his elbows and fixated on cleaning a mug, says, voice thick, “The recipe book was my mother’s.” And Molly suddenly feels cold, like an ice cube just slid down his spine. It’s a miracle he doesn’t drop the fork he’s drying, especially when Caleb glances at him, eyes a blue darker, duller than before. _Navy_ , Molly's mind's supplies absently, still looping the word _was was was_.

The quiet is charged for the first time that evening, tense as Caleb holds out a dripping plate and looks down at the sink, clearly pained in how his jaw clenches. It's as if he expects a physical blow, and that thought feels like an electric shock through Molly’s system. He has to say something. Caleb shouldn’t look like that, should _never_ look like that.

“A genius woman, your mother. Definitely one of the better meals I’ve had, but don’t tell Jester I said that.” Molly dries the plate he’s handed and doesn’t glance at the worn recipe book. Instead, he gives Caleb his most Ren Faire Certified grin and a wink before putting the plate away.

The sadness is still there and Molly thinks it might always be. But when Caleb smiles, just like that afternoon in the bookstore parking lot, the dullness fades almost to obscurity. “I won’t, Mollymauk.” And they say nothing more about it, switching instead to nonsense things.

Molly wipes some suds onto Frumpkin’s head and they watch amused as he pats it off with the most offended expression Molly's ever seen on a creature. He swats at Caleb with his tail when he jokes that Molly was only invited because he can reach the top shelves. It’s nauseating domesticity, but he’s surprised how comfortable it is. He’s surprised how much he wants to stay and needle Caleb into admitting he told a joke, into laughing again, into saying Molly's name like he doesn't want him to leave either.

Molly leaves soon after and he’s worried about how much he doesn’t want to. Caleb wishes him a safe drive before disappearing behind a closed door. And only in the solace of his beloved shitty van, does Molly say, with all the despair of the truly lovesick, “ _Fuck._ ”

 

VI.

With his newly minted friend status and Nott’s help, Molly manages to whittle down Caleb into agreeing to go to Ren Faire and dressing up too. Jester nearly destroys their hard work with her loud excitement over picking Caleb’s outfit, but he relents and the plan is set.

Yasha makes fun of Molly for spending an extra hour on his makeup but goes silent when he brings up her doing thicker eyeliner after a certain martial artist said it looked “badass”. They mope together for a record fastest time of 5 minutes before they’re off to work.

Molly likes to think he and Yasha were made for an earlier time and Ren Faire only proves him right. He never feels more alive twirling carnival glass swords and he knows Yasha smiles the most with a greatsword strapped to her back. What started as a weird suggestion from Gustav ended up becoming a wonderful job they both had never dreamed of and Molly can’t wait to show it to Caleb. Because he’s a lovesick fool.

It’s a few anxiety filled hours before noon finally comes. Molly finishes up a tarot card reading for a small crowd, a couple of curious families that he could read half asleep and off his meds. He pockets theirs tips and gives a grand bow before gathering his things and moving to find his friends. It’s not a difficult task as their group is in possession of one restless blue tiefling in the poofiest dress money can buy.

Jester finds him just as quick. “Oh there he is! Hi, Molly, we’re here! And look!” She reaches into their gathered costumed group and fishes out a reluctant and red faced Caleb.

The first thing Molly notices is leather, _fitted_ leather. It’s simple, nothing terribly flashy, but looks new and well-made. His tunic is black leather with a healthy amount of thick straps and silver buckles that Ren Faire requires. His pants are even more simple, black and skinny to fit nicely into a pair of standard brown boots. Probably as a compromise for him not wearing his coat, Caleb has a dark cloak over one shoulder and a hood, but Molly could spot those blue eyes and reddish hair from a mile away. The beard is the most styled he’s ever seen, probably Fjord’s work, and it really makes him look like a rugged adventurer.

“I must say you outdid yourself, Jester,” Molly shouts as he jogs over. Caleb is easily drowned out by Jester’s big skirt, Beau’s cobalt blue monk clothes, Nott’s creepy mask, and Fjord’s complex armor, but it’s so _him_. Although, Molly supposes he’s just a bit biased. “You really do look nice,” he says once he’s close enough and is awarded with a wry smile.

“I am sorry, but I can’t hear you over your coat,” Caleb deadpans and they all laugh. Molly gets him back by tugging down the hood over his head.

They start their journey to the arena. Molly loudly assures Beau that Yasha’s going to be in armor, which earns him a painful punch in the shoulder. Nobody says anything when she stops to buy a favor, though they all wear some variant of a grin, which she answers with a glare.

Along the way, Molly gets to hear all about Caleb and Nott’s time in the costume shop. Jester apparently has been begging Caleb to wear color ever since he first agreed to come, to no avail (Molly's certain he picked black out of spite). Nott had found a weird baby mask that she cut and painted to look like a doll mask for her thief inspired outfit. She’s also disappointed that she couldn’t bring any of her pocket knives, but Caleb says it’s probably for the better.

Jester, with all the enthusiasm in her body, brags about Molly’s _super awesome_ sword juggling and how _he’s so flexible Molly you have to do the upside-down split thing again, please? For Caleb?_   He promises he would after the show and silently thanks her by tapping their horns together because Caleb flushes so red that he hides in his cloak for the rest of the walk. Fjord sighs and asks them to leave the poor guy alone, receiving a chorus of “Okay, dad” that leaves him in no better shape than Caleb. Beau and Molly joke about how screwed their group would be if Fjord is their parental figure while Jester tries to defend his honor, but ends up agreeing while giggling.

They make it to the arena eventually and Molly guides everyone to the first row seats, winking at his waving coworkers. Their group is considered regulars at the point since they come at least a few times a month. He sits next to Caleb and they await the show to begin. After a few seconds, they turn to each other nearly in unison.

“Mollymauk.”

“Mister Caleb.”

Caleb pushes down his hood, showing off a smile that could probably light up the room. “Mister Mollymauk, then,” he amends, mimicking the posh accent. He looks down at his outfit, head tilted. “Did you make your coat? It’s very unique.”

“If it were from anyone else, I might not have taken that as a compliment.” Molly laughs and holds out a section of the coat. “Somewhat. Found a dramatic mismatched mess at the thrift store and decided I could give it some much needed flare.” He is incredibly fond of the thing and walking around the Faire with it on never fails to get people staring after him.

Caleb traces the embroidery and chuckles. “Only you would see a reddish purple coat in with strange patches on the sleeves and think it needs ‘more flare’. It’s something to behold, however. Like a rainbow.” He nods to himself (while Molly beams with pride) before letting go and looking back at the arena. “How…” Caleb asks as he fiddles with the edge of his cloak, “how safe is this?”

“Fairly. Any runs with the real pointy shit are all done individual. The ‘duels’ are performed with blunt weapons, some rubber. Yasha’s the best at this, she’s had a lot of practice so she’ll be fine.”

“I know.” Caleb smirks. “I was worried about the unfortunate people facing her.” But his hand relaxes on his cloak, which slips from his fingers. Molly squashes the little demon in his chest that chants _hold his hand do it you coward_ and focuses on cheering for his best friend when she steps out in armor with her helmet in her hands. He glances over to see that Beau’s eyes have gone completely wide and she sits up, gaping. She recovers soon enough to join in on their chanting, which Yasha answers with a raised sword in their direction.

Later, they celebrate Yasha’s victory with turkey legs and overpriced soda. Molly wiggles his eyebrows at a particular blue favor kept tied to her belt loop, but otherwise doesn’t comment. Nott shows off her growing button collection and even a few ‘found’ trinkets like an earring or simple rings. Beau recounts the battle with Jester, complete with an exaggerated swoon that they all laugh at. When Yasha does actually catch her, Fjord throws Beau a subtle thumbs up while Nott rolls her eyes at them, grinning. Molly nudges up to Caleb’s side, who jolts before leaning against him with a soft smile. Later, Jester demands a donut run through a mouthful of turkey as Fjord warns her not to choke.

_This is a good day,_ Molly thinks, warm and very, very happy.

 

VII.

Ever since the Ren Faire, Molly feels confident enough to make little holes in his schedule dedicated to lunch with Caleb and sometimes driving him to the bookstore. Whenever their roommates aren’t home, they hang out at their apartments and enjoy each other’s company. When she is home, Nott fusses over Molly and reminds him to take his meds. Yasha gives Caleb fairly decent shaves with increasingly bigger knives each time. Molly is delighted by both of these changes.

It’s only a few months into their Ren Faire jig when Yasha gets an offer to be a bouncer at a nearby nightclub that’s pretty high up. After an exhaustive Adult Talk about their expenses and hours, Molly and Yasha agree that’d it would be a great way to be more comfortable while still doing what they love. Neither admit it’s mostly because they hate their customer service jobs, but they know anyway.

Not long after she’s settled in, Yasha gets Molly in as a bartender by tossing his Caleb-edited resumé at her boss. Their schedules get horribly chaotic and busy, but it works and they’re happy. The few tragedies are missing out more often on movie nights at the Beau-Jester apartment, and Molly cutting down on Caleb time. Yasha and Molly make it up with supplying the booze when they can go. He learns how to make some fucking great drinks too, so they’re doing pretty great and Caleb always gets first dibs.

Although, Molly does like to say that after Beau is also hired as a bouncer, Yasha’s  _much_  happier. It gets her to turn so red that she leaves the room, which never fails to delight him. However, only Caleb knows that seeing Yasha happy makes it all the better for Molly. Even if the sexual tension at work is a little weird and sometimes makes him want to slam his head onto the bar.

“Would you like to come by?” Molly blurts out that day. He’s finally perfected a whole bunch of fancy tricks that have helped him become top tip earner (all Youtube learned but Caleb would never know that). Plus Caleb’s hair is up in a little ponytail and his pen is behind his ear so Molly’s filter has _vanished_.

Caleb, to his credit, only sighs before he asks, “You mean visit you at your other job?” He’s looking down at his notes scattered across Molly’s dining table, eyebrows scrunched together. All papers about really super interesting arcane academia that Molly has tuned out for an hour now between his gossiping.

“I know it’s not your preferred place...” How the hell does Molly say _but I want to involve you in more of my life_ without indirectly proposing marriage? “But I think you’ll have fun with all of us there and I’ll make you whatever drink you want, on the house.” Easy, he doesn’t and instead tries to entice his crush with free liquor. Genius.

The obnoxious Beau in Molly’s head is shouting, “This is why you’re fucking single!” And she’s absolutely right.

Silence passes for a few moments and Molly is about to either beg or completely rescind the offer when Caleb says, “Okay.” Says it so simply too, like he’s some college undergrad who goes to parties and clubs every weekend. Not like he’s Caleb Widogast who’s currently at Molly’s apartment to work on his paper and mooch off his supply of good coffee. This man is an enigma.

“You’ll… come?” Gods, that sounds terribly dirty, but half of Molly’s brain is still too much in shock to make a joke.

Caleb smiles at him, it’s his softer one which makes his eyes twinkle and his chin dimple. “Ja, if I can stay at the bar the entire time.”

Molly chuckles, hoping he doesn’t sound as stunned as he feels. He stands from his chair and grabs Caleb’s empty cat mug with a wink. “Of course, dear, anything you want.” Molly walks into the kitchen before his blush betrays how much he means that statement. He only sends Yasha five texts filled with caps lock and various heart emojis. When he passes Caleb his refilled mug, Molly gets a simple response from her of “What did Caleb say?”

 

There are a few downfalls to being Jester’s friend. Namely, her love to wiggle past barriers and push people out of their comfort zones. Sometimes, it’s wonderful when you’re indecisive over something and she kicks your ass into gear. Other times, her favorite victim is the man you’re crushing on and she drags him away to dance.

Molly and Fjord watch Jester and Caleb meet with Beau and Yasha on the dance floor and begin what looks like a waltz. To pounding EDM. Gods, he loves these idiots.

“She’s really a force of nature when she wants to be,” Fjord notes as she twirls Caleb who’s positively scarlet. He’s smiling fondly, though, as he usually does when talking about their favorite blue tiefling.

Molly shrugs, passing over a drink to another patron with a quick “Here you go, sir.” He then pours Fjord a whiskey. “Caleb indulges her more than he’d admit. But he has a lot of fun, even if he likes to pretend to hate it.” And Molly’s sure he has a big dopey smile on his face like he usually does when talking about Caleb.

“I hear it’s not Jester that he has fun with, though.” Fjord wiggles his eyebrows and Molly has to remind himself that he’s at work and not allowed to bang his head on the bar. He settles for groaning.

“Ugh, who ratted? Gods know you’re blind as all hell.”

“Hey! I know about Beau’s thing for Yasha.”

Molly waves his hand. “Wow, you’re more perceptive than the comatose and Yasha.”

“Alright damn, you got me, that was a good one.” He laughs and motions at the dancing pair. “Jester mentioned it. I said you and Caleb would make a good pair, and she said you’re not a couple because you don’t got the balls.” Fjord knocks back the whiskey.

Molly watches him with envy. “You fucker, bringing this up when I can’t drink or escape. Congrats, you’re now in on my crush on the bloody guy I’m surprised tolerates me.”

“Now you’re just being a drama queen.”

“I’m gay, I have to be dramatic.”

Fjord raises his empty glass. “I’ll drink to that.” As Molly tops him off, he continues, insistent, “But really, you invited a fucking hermit to a _nightclub_ and he said _yes_. I’m sure that’s damn near a confession from the guy.”

“I don’t _know_ , Fjord.” He props his elbows on the bar and rests his face in his hands, seeing Caleb shake his head at a grinning Jester. “I don’t want to fuck this up. I’d rather pine to my grave than fuck this up. Now shut up, he’s coming back.”

Fjord looks at him, really looks at him and probably somewhere in his sea obsessed mind, something clicks. “You poor son of a bitch, you’ve got it _bad_.” But, to his credit, he welcomes back Caleb like he hasn’t just realized Molly’s head over heels. “Hey, you’re still in one piece! How was it?”

“It was fine, but she’s requesting you. I wouldn’t disappoint her,” Caleb answers with a smirk.

Fjord shakes his head as he gets up, but he’s smiling as he slides over his whiskey. “I’ve been summoned, y’all. Here, you can have the rest.” Then he saunters away, tossing a terribly done wink at Molly from behind Caleb’s back on his way out. There’s a few patrons now at the bar he has to take care of and by the time Molly comes back, the whiskey is nearly completely gone.

“How are you feeling, Caleb?” Molly signals to the other bartender that he’s taking his break. He grabs two bottles of water on his way around the bar, passing Caleb one. He also sits close and if anyone asks, it’s to hear him over the blaring music.

Molly’s awarded with that soft smile again. “Danke, Mollymauk. I’m okay. This is still, um, not my element, but you were right.”

“Well, at least someone finally realizes it,” Molly laughs, cracking open his bottle. “What was I right about, Mister Caleb?” He takes a long swig.

“It’s… fun with you all.” Caleb looks down at his shoes and Molly just stares at him because that wonderful smile wilts. When Caleb speaks, it’s so quiet that Molly has to lean in even closer to hear, “I know I am… not an easy person to deal with. I have-” he turns his head up and the flashing multicolor lights dance across his features, “baggage, I suppose, a lot of it.” His eyes are every color in this club, reds, blues, yellows, but in the lulls, they are black pits.

Molly carefully puts his hand on Caleb’s, sweeping his thumb across the skin when the man doesn’t flinch away. “We all do, darling. Don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we’re all kinds of fucked up.” He feels a little braver when Caleb chuckles so he takes the hand and holds it. “We’re much too selfish to be friends with you out of pity. We’re using you for your brilliant mind and adorable cat, of course.”

The hand in Molly’s squeezes as he wins a laugh. “That’s understandable. I’ll try to remember that.” Caleb looks at him, hair in his face and bitten lip curled into a smile. “Thank you, Mollymauk.”

Molly wants to kiss this wonderful human so badly that it hurts. He wants to bury him in love and reassurances until Caleb’s the most confident man on this planet. But it’s not the right time and he’s not sure it ever will be. And he thinks he’s starting to be okay with that. Molly only holds on and gives his best my-heart-isn’t-imploding smile.

“No need to thank me, dear, I’ll happily remind your dumb arse whenever you need me to.”

 

IIX.

The Mighty Nein are a group of messed up assholes, that’s why they work. And not the serial killer kind of messed up, the good old trauma brand. Caduceus had mentioned it to Molly the first time they met, the group hanging out in his and Fjord’s apartment to meet the new roommate, a gravekeeper of all things.

“You all have deep pains,” he had said while stirring his cup of tea. Caduceus took a sip, pale pink eyes unflinching as they looked at Molly’s completely red glare. “It’s a good thing. You understand each other without having to ask.”

Weird as it was to be told that at 2 pm on a Sunday, Molly learns soon enough it’s a Caduceus typical conversation and also that he’s completely right. Caduceus is usually completely right and it would be infuriating if he wasn’t such a nice guy about it.

Anyway, Molly knows that family is big sore spot for everyone. Everyone knows Molly’s past is a bunch of lies in a trenchcoat and that Yasha rarely talks about hers. Jester has a whole fantasy in her head of finding her dad and is happiest when her apartment’s full. Beau never visits her  old home and burns some letters upon a single glance. Fjord has a big soft spot for kids and picks at his nearly nonexistent tusks. Nott avoids mirrors and flinches whenever a stranger moves suddenly in her direction. Caleb wears a strained smile when he sees families and stays far away from most fire.

Molly also knows that the Mighty Nein either has impossibly amazing or comically terrible luck.

They’re having a Saturday trip to Labenda Mall; it’s an old building ready to fall apart from the water damage, but also having a great sale. The girls had split off to find Beau and Yasha new work outfits. Fjord and Molly were given the nigh impossible task of trying to expand Caleb’s fashion. They’re just leaving the store with a resigned Caleb and a few bags hanging off their arms when hell breaks loose.

First, they hear a ton of shouting coming from the food court that’s a few stores away. Fjord looks at them, startled, and asks, “Do y’all smell smoke?” Then the alarm begins to blare, advising everyone to evacuate immediately and in an orderly fashion.

Caleb’s hands fly up to cover his ears. Molly finally sees what people are running from as the shouting gets louder. “Shit, fuck, come on!” He’s just a few seconds late and he knows the moment Caleb sees it as his eyes widen. Then go distant. His arms fall and so do his bags.

Fire.

“Hey- Caleb! _Fuck_. Fjord, here!” Molly tosses him the bags before sweeping Caleb into a bridal carry. His arms shake, but he grits his teeth and tightens his grip. “Let’s go!”

The mall is more packed than usual because of the sale and Fjord has to shield them as best he can to get through the panicked crowd. They eventually make it out, breathing heavy and staggering. Once they find a bench, Fjord deposits the bags and moves away to call Jester while Molly sets Caleb down.

Caleb’s staring off and swaying slightly. Molly kneels in front of him and squeezes his limp hands. “Caleb? Caleb, dear, come back, you’re safe. You’re okay.” He waits, rubbing gentle circles into Caleb’s palms and muttering reassurances.

It takes a minute, but some of the fog recedes and Caleb blinks groggily like he’s just woken up from a nap. “Molly?” He murmurs, slightly slurred, “Was- what..?”

“We’re outside the mall. There was an incident and we had to evacuate, but we’re all okay. Fjord’s on the phone right now with Jester.”

Caleb nods slowly, starting to become fully aware again. Molly eases up his grip on his hands, but doesn’t completely let go, continuing his gentle circles.

“How did you get me out?” Caleb asks once he’s himself again. His voice is even more stilted than normal and accent much thicker.

Molly puts on a grin, withdrawing to stand. He sets his hands on his hips. “I carried you.”

“You did? You?” There’s a shaking smile on Caleb’s face and his heart feels like it swells from the sight of it.

“Hey, I’m no Yasha, but I can hold my weight. You’re practically all bone, anyway.” Molly drops the act when Caleb chuckles, the sound quieter than usual. “You alright, dear?”

It’s a dumb question to any other person, but they know well enough how to read the other when it counts. At least, he likes to think so since Caleb doesn’t look at him like an idiot.

“Ja. Or at least, I will be.”

Molly leans down to press a kiss to his forehead. “Okay.” He sits next to him and Caleb moves over to rest on his shoulder. By the time Fjord comes back with the girls in tow, Caleb’s asleep. Yasha’s the one to carefully lift and carry him to the car. Nott flies to Caleb’s side instantly, but meets Molly’s gaze and gives him a nod.

Molly doesn’t follow Yasha when she carries Caleb to his room. He hovers outside their apartment door, picking at his nail polish, until she comes back.

Yasha hugs him when she does and they head to their own apartment. It’s a quiet journey, the only sound being the clicks of their door’s lock.

“He’s strong,” Yasha suddenly says. She’s stopped in front of her bedroom door, hand on the handle. “He’ll be okay.”

“Yeah.” Molly sighs, annoyed at the cavern in his chest. “Yeah, he will.”

 

IX.

"Molly?" Jester asks, oddly quiet. It's only her and Molly, she's sat cross-legged on her bed with crumpled candy wrappers around them while he's laying next to her, scrolling through his phone. Beau's at work and Jester invited Molly over, saying she felt lonely.

He puts it down though at her tone, sitting up. "Yes, dear?"

"How do you know you love Caleb?" If it were any other time and anyone else, Molly would've joked or laughed or maybe even cursed. But Jester isn't teasing him or even acting smug, she instead sounds confused. Lost. She's looking at him with big blue eyes like he knows the secret to the universe.

Molly decides to tell her the truth. "I... I just do." He shrugs, looking up at the ceiling, lips involuntarily twitching into a smile. "No matter what, I love being by his side, even if he's just reading or studying, and I miss him when I'm not." Molly turns to her, sighing. "It's almost pathetic how much I miss him right now."

"Do you miss him even when he's being a dick?"

He laughs. "Yeah, because then it's a challenge to get the stick out of his arse." When Jester only huffs a laugh and doesn't go for the obvious joke, Molly's sure that something is up. So he reaches over and holds her hands. "What is it, dear?"

"I-" It's her turn now to look away, biting her lip. "I thought I really liked Fjord, but now I'm not so sure. I care about him, just like you and everyone else! But..." Jester deflates. "I don't know if I love him like you love Caleb."

Molly tugs on her arms until she looks at him. "Hey, everyone loves a little differently. But if you aren't in love with Fjord, then why is that so bad?"

"Because I don't know, Molly!" Jester says, frustrated, "Sometimes I really do like him, but then he'll say something or do something and then I'm not sure. But if I  _do_ really like him then it shouldn't be only half the time and I shouldn't feel funny when I see-" And then her jaw swings shut. Her cheeks flushes to the color of red wine, but her eyes are wide, trembling in the silence that surrounds them.

"Jester." She refuses to look at him. " _Jester_ , it's only me," Molly says, exasperated, "I'm in love, not an old prude, I'm not going to judge you."

Jester relaxes a little, but keeps her gaze down. "I... I met someone the last time we went to that lunch at Caleb's school. Her name is Calianna, but I call her Cali and she's very sweet and pretty and likes hearing all my stories. We've been texting everyday since then and we hang out sometimes and when she laughs or sings, I feel... funny."

"I think you know what you feel, Jester."

"But I thought... I've always liked boys, Molly," she says, lost, "And if I do like her, what if I end up being wrong like I might be with Fjord?"

Molly squeezes her hands. "Then you realize you're wrong and move on. We're still young, you're not going to march down to Fjord or Cali and propose." He smiles at her. "Get to know them and see how you feel, yeah? And don't get angry at yourself, nobody has all their shit figured out at our age."

Jester takes a moment to breathe in and out before squeezing back and smiling. "Thanks, Molly. I hope you and Caleb ask each other out soon." There's a slight hint of mischief in her eyes, but there's also a lot of warmth in her words.

"I don't know if it's the right time yet, but I hope so too."

 

X.

To prove him right, everything tips up with someone recognizing Molly at the nightclub. It isn’t rare for a stranger to greet him, but upon looking closer, they immediately backpedal. It’s one of the perks of having such a unique look with the horns and tattoos. But this was a first where someone looked closer and became _ecstatic_ , throwing up their arms and exclaiming, “Lucien!”

Molly still isn’t really sure how he got out. He thinks he probably babbled something about _‘having one of those faces, sorry’_ or maybe even a _‘fuck off_ ’ before he hightailed it into the staff only area. Yasha must have found him there or was called over because he remembers being carried to his room. His room that he hasn’t left for about 2 days.

Yasha does her best to take care of him, bringing home their favorite fast food and trying to reassure him. But she also knows what something like that means to Molly, so a lot of the usual comfort words die in her mouth. She’s not very good at comforting in general either. He would feel guilty for putting her in such a rough spot if he wasn’t so numb. As someone usually drumming with excess energy and a racing mind, it's an alien sensation that neither he nor Yasha know how to deal with. So he just lays and stares out the window.

Day three rears its head and Yasha, desperate, calls out the big guns.

A hesitant “Mollymauk?” is accompanied by two gentle knocks on his door. Molly immediately considers turning him away, his pride demanding Caleb never see him like this. But he also feels a twinge of something, a muted longing that bubbles against the surface with each knock.

“Come in,” Molly rasps, voice rough with disuse. The door creaks open and there Caleb stands, in all his ink splattered hoodie and faded jeans glory. In a movie, maybe he’d be silhouetted by the morning sun so it seems like he has a halo. In reality, however, Molly’s curtains are drawn tight and Caleb looks like he hasn’t slept. Even so, Molly feels a sudden rush of fondness that the numbness can’t fully suppress, especially when Caleb gives his best attempt at Molly’s Bullshit Smile.

Caleb closes the door with his foot, hands full with a rather big, covered white dish. His eyebrows furrow as he gets closer and sees Molly’s state in all its gruesome detail. Must be a pitiful sight: lying in bed with none of his usual jewelry or makeup, wearing one of Yasha’s hoodies, and looking the very picture of misery. It’s how Molly feels he looks, anyway.

“We haven’t heard from you in days, everyone’s worried,” Caleb says, nudging Molly’s office chair to roll over to the bed. “Yasha said you were sick.” His tone sounds like it’s tittering on the edge of a lecture and the fondness dies.

Molly somehow musters up a wry smile that he doesn’t feel. “Didn’t believe her?”

Caleb shakes his head, sitting down. “No. You make a fuss when you get a paper cut. You would have loved for us to play nurse. Unless it is something serious.” His frown gets even deeper and his eyes narrow. “You don’t like people worrying after you.”

Molly doesn’t know what to say to that, so he scowls and looks out his window like he has for days now. His gaze meets curtain, but it’s better than watching that blue stare get under his skin. Caleb’s smart and Molly isn’t in the mood for talking about whatever the fuck’s going on in his head. He only focuses on Caleb again when the dish is placed in his lap.

“Soup?” He can’t stop, but mock, “Thought you were too smart to believe Yasha?” Molly’s all bite and sharp teeth.

Caleb only waves at him to lift the lid, piercing eyes having softened despite the venom thrown at him. Molly does begrudgingly and is greeted by the sight of something that’s not soup at all, but does smells delightful. And homemade.

“It’s spätzle, my father’s speciality.” As always whenever Caleb talks about his parents, there’s a wistfulness to his voice. A twinge of sorrow that hangs heavy between them, taking away Molly’s bite. “Nott calls it Zeminian mac and cheese. My father called it food for the soul.” His hand reaches out, slow and careful, and covers one of Molly’s. Caleb’s smile is something he’s never seen before, going past gentle and fond to something brittle. Something vulnerable. “I don’t pretend to know your problems nor their solutions,” he says softly, sincerely, “but I can offer what _I_ know.”

“Caleb…” The numbness has faded since Caleb sat down, but Molly misses it because now there’s so much, too much. All the bitterness in him has been overwhelmed by something warm and bright. Words are caught in his throat and he feels like he’s choking, drowning. The best way Molly can describe it is gratitude on every drug there is.

Caleb only shakes his head and presses a plastic fork into his other hand. It grounds him. “If you don’t want it, that’s fine. But I am here for you, Mollymauk Tealeaf. _We_ are here for you.”

Molly stares at him for a moment. He studies how conviction makes Caleb’s jaw clench and eyes not waver. “Share it with me?” Molly asks, voice cracking.

“Of course, Schatz.”

Caleb has to go get another fork, but with all the takeout Yasha has been getting, it isn’t a hard find. After a few mouthfuls of cheesy noodles, Molly slowly gets his brain to work again to ask about Caleb’s day at the bookstore and university. Once the story of how the fiction section was nearly destroyed yet again concludes and the dish becomes empty, Molly tells him what happened.

Molly tells him about the strange tabaxi at work, about how his fear, his one fucking fear came true. “I woke up in the dirt, Caleb. I was this scared kid covered in mud who could’ve even talk. If it wasn’t for Yasha…” He shakes his head and scowls. “Whoever was buried is dead and this-” he waves at his body, “this is _mine_ now. I want nothing to do with whoever that was, and then this happens.” He drops his arm, suddenly tired. “And I don’t want it.”

Caleb, eyes soft and blue, listens with complete focus and his hand over Molly’s. Once he finishes, trembling and heaving, Caleb lets go. Before Molly could open his mouth and apologize for Gods know what, Caleb wheels closer and pulls him into a hug. It’s stiff and all bone. Molly melts into it.

“I am sorry for what you went through,” Caleb says by his ear, sharp chin hooked over his shoulder. “I believe in second starts, Mollymauk Tealeaf, and we’re behind you.”

And that’s the final push that gets Molly to actually fall apart. He cries into Caleb’s hoodie that smells like old paper and coffee. Caleb holds him until there’s nothing left in him, spindly but warm arms wrapped around his shoulders. Later, Molly thinks about how uncomfortable Caleb must have felt given both the horns digging in his chest and touching in general, but the human never complained nor relented until Molly pulled away first.

When Molly goes back to work after his “flu”, he only catches a glimpse of fur before it’s blocked by Beau, who’s arms are crossed and tensed up to show her muscles. Jester keeps him company at the bar and tells him all about her weird dream about a cute girl she met the other day. Nott swings by late at night to fill up her flask, sneaking little baubles near Molly every once in a while for him to find.

At the faire, Yasha stays close by him and indulges Molly by spotting him as he does flips on fences for a cheering crowd. Fjord and Caduceus come by his apartment in the evening, armed with tea and gossip about coworkers and strange customers.

Molly tells each of them that day, in those varying locations, about his nonexistent past. Everyone listens with a sympathetic ear and gives hugs, all except Beau who claps him on the shoulder and admits that they all kind of knew already. But they share a silent moment in the staff room of the roaring nightclub and Molly gets a suspicion that she understands the most. He waits a beat before grabbing an ice cube from his drink and shoving it down her shirt. Beau spends the rest of her break chasing him through the crowded dance floor and they’re both still grinning like idiots by the time they clock out.

 

XI.

The undergraduates of the Mighty Nein all graduate while Nott and Molly embarrass them by shouting as loud as possible when they walk.

There are some changes. Caleb starts getting paid for working at the university, Beau also works at her martial arts gym, Fjord sometimes leaves on research trips to the ocean, and Jester gathers everyone to help her pack her etsy products more often. She also asks out Cali and is the only one of them to finally have a partner, which she teases Molly and Beau about; he would be more bitter if he wasn't so happy for her and how cute they are together. Molly does get Nott a ‘My Son is a Valedictorian’ bumper sticker, which she sticks onto her minivan with the utmost pride.

And well, Caleb and Caduceus get closer.

Molly isn’t a jealous person, really. He’s of the firm, unshakable opinion that you cannot call dibs on a person, people aren’t objects. But his heart seems to completely miss the message and the fucker wilts whenever Caleb turns him down because he has plans to study Caduceus’s weird plant powers or whatever.

Caleb, of course, doesn’t notices anything amist and Molly tries his damndest to keep it that way. Caduceus, however, is a much different case.

“You seem troubled, friend,” he says after Molly steps into the Wildmother’s temple, “is it about Mister Caleb?”

Molly bristles at being read so easily within a second of seeing him. Of course, it doesn’t last long since it’s like getting angry at Caleb’s intelligence or Fjord’s charisma. Insight is Caduceus’s natural skill, honed by years in nature and helping the grieving. Plus the man looks like the picture of calm and understanding, how the hell could he stay mad at that? So Molly sighs instead. “I feel like answering you is redundant.”

Caduceus chuckles at that, leading him over to the cushions on the ground around a low table. “I am not a mind reader, Molly, but I can read faces and your expression is one you wear whenever Mister Caleb turns his back.” Then he leaves to get tea and allow Molly the dignity of pressing his flushed face into his hands for a moment.

Armed with a kettle and two tea cups, Caduceus settles next to him with a kind smile. He talks while pouring, “I can tell you care a great deal for him. He talks about you a lot.”

His smile widens when Molly starts and nearly drops the cup. “He does?”

“Yes. Mister Caleb sometimes gets frustrated trying to understand faith based arcane so he distracts himself by talking with me.” Caduceus takes a moment to enjoy his tea and Molly would’ve believed it was sincere if he didn’t catch the corner of his mouth quirking into a smirk. The fucker. “He admires your confidence and bravery. ‘A walking rainbow with a strong heart,’ I believe were his words.”

It’s stupid how deeply the gossip hits him, but Molly feels it anyway. He sets down his cup and just looks down. A hand rests heavy on his shoulder and he glances over to meet Caduceus’s eyes, which were playful before, now seem gentle.

“I admit, this is out of my expertise, yet I think you two are good for each other.” Caduceus’s smile fades a little. “Hurt people, like Mister Caleb, are afraid to trust, especially when they are as important as him.” The hand squeezes lightly. “You want him to grow. He wants you to be happy.”

Molly sighs into his hands, tugging on a loose violet curls. “But what if we’re wrong, Cad?” He shakes his head. “Staying friends is safe.”

“I used to believe safety meant happiness.” Caduceus leans back in his chair, hand slipping off of Molly’s shoulder. He looks out the arched stained glass window. “My world was the temple at home. I was afraid of moving here to take care of this one, all alone with my family scattered and far.” Then he peers at Molly, intense. “If I had stayed and told my sister to go instead, I would not have met you nor our friends. My leap of faith was rewarded.”

“You also wouldn’t have been dragged into a bar fight a week into moving here.”

“My first black eye.” Caduceus chuckles. “I had never even stepped in a bar before. It was scary, but exciting, and you all took care of me.” He sips his cup with a curled smile. “I knew then that this was a good thing and I was honored to be a part of it.”

Molly looks at his abandoned tea cup, not fighting his own dopey smile. “You give us too much credit, Cad. But I think I see your point.”

Caduceus hums. “Let Caleb make his choice, Molly. He’s a smart man, I know he will not wish to lose you either way.” When said so easily like that, Molly thinks he could believe him.

“Thanks, Cad.”

“Anytime, friend.”

“So who are we drinking today?”

 

XII.

Surprisingly, it’s Caleb that takes the first step.

“Mollymauk,” he speaks into the silence, book shut in his lap and voice flat.

Molly sits up, ignoring Frumpkin’s irritated mew, and looks at Caleb. His eyes are downcast and staring at his textbook like it’s a death sentence. His lips are pressed into a thin line, making him look much older than he actually is. “Caleb?”

“You have been very kind to me, much more so than I deserve.” Molly wants to interrupt him but he knows that expression so he bites his tongue. “You say the past does not matter,” Caleb chuckles then and the sound is joyless, “but I am a thief, taking your kindness without you knowing who I really am.”

In the heavy pause, Molly reaches over and gently places a hand on his knee. Caleb flinches, but settles with a thick sigh, still not looking at him. Molly swallows the lump in his throat. “Caleb, if you want to tell me of your past, that’s your choice and I think you want to.” He squeezes his grip. “But I know you, the you now, and that’s all that matters to me.”

Caleb’s lips twist into cruel smile as he sneers, “We shall see.” He does relax, however, even if it’s just a little. Molly takes back his hand as Caleb begins to tell his story.

“My mother’s name was Una. My father’s name was Leofric. We lived in a small town called Blumenthal and everyone was excited about me when I was young, my parents were so proud. I was bright, confident, and very smart. As adolescents, three of us from the town were noticed by a recruiter for the top academy in the country.” Caleb’s face contorts into a snarl as he hisses, “Trent Ikithon from the Soltryce Academy.”

“He became our personal teacher, had us doing research and writing papers within days. Trent was cruel and harsh whenever we would make a mistake, but we believed it was only to help us improve.” Caleb’s laugh gets caught in his throat and sounds more like a sob. Molly’s nails bite into his own skin with how hard he clenches his fists, but he stays quiet.

Caleb closes his eyes. “By the time we were allowed to go home, I had written dozens of full length research papers on all kinds of things: military tactics, developments in stem cells, interrogation methods. Then when I was with my mother and father, I realized how miserable I really was. They noticed the bruises, they asked me- they asked-” he clenches his jaw and takes a deep breath. “They asked me if I wanted to stay home. And I said yes.”

“I left the next day to send a letter of my withdrawal to the Academy and when I returned, my house was on fire.”

“Caleb…” Molly breathes, horrified.

Caleb either ignores him or doesn’t hear him. “I heard my parents screaming from inside as Trent emerged from behind the house. I couldn’t move. He came up to me and took this small black device from behind my ear. He said he had more house calls to make, then got in his car and drove away. My neighbors saw the fire and called the police.” Tears were running down his face. “They found me staring at the flames. I’m told that after they put out the fire I had started screaming, begging them to kill me. I was in the mental institution for a year and learned upon my release that Trent was never found.”

Caleb wipes at his face, which was horribly blank. “I lived in a foster home for a year in Trostenwald before I applied to be independent. Meet Nott a few months after I moved to Zadash to attend university early and she took me in. Well, you know the rest.” He looks at Molly finally, eyes bloodshot. “I am a broken man, Mollymauk. My mistakes have killed my parents and may kill me too.”

Molly carefully takes his hands. “Caleb, none of it was your fault.” He tightens his grip when he tries to pull away. “No, I held my tongue so now you bloody listen to me.” He loosens his hold when Caleb nods, thumb stroking along his knuckles. “None of that changes anything except that I understand you better. Caleb, you were a damn _kid_ , you didn’t kill them. That monster did.”

Molly raises the hand in his grasp to press a soft kiss on the knuckles. “And I am so sorry, dear, I know now how much you hurt. But you shouldn’t blame yourself for crimes you didn’t do. I’m certain your parents don’t, they loved you.” He looks into those deep blue eyes. “And we love you. If you asked us to hunt down that man, I’d have to hold back Nott and Yasha from gutting him alive when we do.”

Caleb cracks a small smile. “Why?”

“Because I’d wait for your word.”

“Ha,” Caleb huffs, looking down, “I do not deserve you, Mollymauk Tealeaf.”

Molly cups his cheek and smiles at him. “You deserve everything, Caleb Widogast.” The familiar desire to kiss him burns hot in his chest, but he only moves to pull him into a hug. Caleb cries silently into his neck and Molly holds him tighter, heart aching with the knowledge of his pain.

They say good night at the door and when Caleb smiles, it’s crooked and beautiful. Molly drives home with his radio switched off and goes straight to bed, wiping off his makeup and tossing his jewelry onto his nightstand. He stares at his ceiling, dotted with faintly glowing stars and strung up bargain bin fabric. He thinks about Caleb and Lucien until his eyelids become too heavy to force open.

 

XIII.

It’s early on a Saturday and Yasha, sweaty from her morning run, is staring at Molly like he’s grown two heads rather than eating cereal.

“Yeah?” He says through mouthful of fruit loops, eyebrows raised.

Yasha sets down her water bottle, not breaking eye contact. “What are you planning?” She asks with the amount of trepidation learned from being Molly’s best friend.

Molly swallows down his food then grins as wide as he can. “Go take a shower, dear, and meet me in my room. I have a man to woo.” When she beams and races off, the nerves wiggling in his stomach calm just enough for him to finish his breakfast.

After Yasha returns and sits on his bed, Molly tells her as much as he’s able to. Yasha nods gravely before getting to her feet to pluck a billowy white shirt from his closet. “He watches you most when you wear this.”

Then, somehow, calling Jester for a small favor ends up having most of the Mighty Nein barge into their small apartment.

“Guys, what the fuck,” he whines when he opens the door to four people instead of one. Jester bounds into his apartment to hug Yasha while Beau shoulder checks him out of the way.

“You’re finally making a move, this is a fucking miracle that I’m not missing.”

Fjord shrugs in response, but also doesn’t look apologetic. “Sorry, Moll, not missing this either.” And he follows Beau.

Molly stares up at Caduceus, who shows off his kettle. “I brought tea, figured you might need it.”

“Cad, you’re the best of us, come in.”

 

Like much of their plans, things quickly escalate.

“I am _not_ hiring a flash mob.”

“But Mollyyy, you’d love it!”

“Jessie, it’s a cute idea, but Caleb would kill himself on the spot.”

Fjord nods with Beau’s statement and swivels toward Yasha. “How’d you feel, Yash?”

Yasha grimaces. “I would hate it. Too loud and public.”

Molly pats Jester’s cheek. “It’s a lovely idea, dear, but I want a boyfriend, not a corpse.”

She pouts and sighs before continuing to mix her dough. “Fine, but you _are_ going to eat these cookies together when he accepts, right?” Her big puppy dog eyes melt the whole room’s hearts.

“Of course, Jester. Wouldn’t dare not to.”

They’re back to the drawing board. Molly’s original plan to confess at Caleb’s apartment is stuck down fast.

“It’s been a _year_ of pining, make this special, you asshole!” Beau had yelled and everyone else was loud in agreement.

In the middle of a tense argument over Caleb’s favorite color (Fjord and Jester say it’s brown while Beau and Molly say it’s blue), the doorbell rings. Nobody notices it at first until Caduceus sets down his cup and calls out a “Hey!” which quiets the room and they hear it ring the second time.

“Oh shit,” Molly hisses, looking at everyone, “did Caleb get out of work?” He checks his phone but it’s noon and he has no messages.

“I don’t think so,” Fjord says, but there’s no confidence behind it as his eyes are as wide as dinner plates. Everyone’s silent and making wild hand gestures at each other that he can’t understand in the slightest.

Molly gets to his feet and trudges to the door, an excuse ready on his lips. However, when he opens it, the words die instantly.

Nott stands to her full three and a half foot stature with her hands on her hips. “You guys are the _worst_ at being sneaky.”

“Well, that is more your style.” Molly laughs nervously, glancing down the hallways, which are thankfully empty. He reluctantly meets her stares.

Nott’s bright yellow eyes narrow and he’s sure he’s sweating. Then she breaks into a bright, jagged smile. “Come on, nobody knows my boy as well as I do.” And she drags him into his own apartment.

 

“Aw, Nott, this is the cutest idea!” Jester gushes as Yasha snags the final scarf into place. Molly’s beaten up record player is set up by the couch and softly playing one of Caduceus’s classical music vinyls.

“Thanks! Me and Caleb saw it in a movie and he seemed a little envious.”

“Beau, draw the curtains,” Fjord calls as he plugs in the fairy lights brought from Jester’s room. The living room then takes on a soft glow that looks almost mystical as the various scarves cast different shades and patterns. They all ooh and aw at their work. The couches have been covered in the softest blankets they all own and the most colorful pillows they could find. Some candles have also been discovered in Molly’s closet and set around to give a nice vanilla scent and light up the room. Jester had even scavenged through her closet for her mother’s pretty lace tablecloth, which turns their scratched table into something out of a fancy restaurant.

Beau nods and grins at Molly as he sets their few precious silverware on the table. “For a few hours of labor and arguing, this looks pretty fucking sweet, huh?”

“It’s incredible,” Molly says, smiling at everyone, “couldn’t have done it without all your help, you terrible meddlers.”

Caduceus, emerging from the kitchen, looks around. “Wow, this is great. And oh- I had nearly forgot, I brought these.” From behind him, he brings out a small bundle of pink, purple, and white flowers. “For you to give to him or have on the table, up to you.”

“Oh, those are beautiful!” Molly rushes over to take them. “Thank you! What are they? I only recognize the lavender.”

Cad points at the elegant white flowers, “Gardenia,” then the small pale pink clusters, “and hydrangea.” He shrugs, looking a little sheepish. “Not sure what they mean, but Caleb likes them and they make nice teas.”

“‘You are lovely’ and ‘you are the beat of my heart’. Lavender can mean purity or devotion,” Yasha says and everyone turns to look at her. She hunches a little, faintly red. “...I like flowers.”

Nott beams up at her. “Me too! You can pick some nice ones near the bookstore.”

“Ooh, you mean the little white ones?” Jester gasps. “I’ve seen them before, they’re by where I get my paints!”

“ _Anyway_ ,” Fjord interrupts, checking his phone, “it’s nearly two, so let’s run the plan again.”

Nott raises her hand. “I already texted Caleb saying Jester wanted a girls’ night, but that Molly’s still hosting movie night. He replied with an okay, by the way.”

“Good, then I go pick him up because Molly’s got stuck with getting takeout. And then whoops, silly me, I left my phone at home!” Fjord dramatically gasps, making everyone laugh, “I need to go grab it so just go ahead, Caleb!”

“Then he sees all of this and Molly looking incredibly beautiful and faints!” Jester swoons in a laughing Beau’s arms before rocking back up. “And when Molly kisses him awake, Caleb confesses his undying love!”

Molly shakes his head at her, failing miserably at not smiling. “We’re no longer going to watch Tusk Love for movie night, you’ve revoked your romantic movie rights.”

“Noooo, Molly! I made you cookies!”

“Alright, alright, they’re restored.”

Fjord leaves to go get Caleb while everyone else fusses over Molly’s look. Jester helps him do his makeup while Nott picks through his jewelry to find the prettiest ones. Beau, Caduceus, and Yasha compare different outfits, trying to find a balance between what would be Molly and also not too overwhelming for a nice home dinner.

The makeup ends up being much like his usual, but with pops of gold glitter to match his jewelry and also a wine red lip. Jester is not sparse with her compliments as Nott finishes threading the chains through his horns and Molly feels light as the clothes are brought to him. The billowy shirt is approved as well as a pair of navy blue and plum striped dress pants. Everyone applauds as he strikes a few poses, Nott pretending to wipe tears from her eyes. Jester starts taking pictures, and soon they’re all taking silly group photos.

“Okay, time to clear out, you fuckers,” Molly announces, nerves building enough to make his hands shake, “love you all, but you are _n_ _ot_  part of this maybe date.”

Just before she follows everyone out the door, Nott grabs Molly’s wrist and presses something into his hand. “He’s going to love it,” she assures, tugging him down and standing on her tiptoes to plant a quick kiss on his forehead. “Take care of my boy.” Then she’s gone, leaving a smiling Molly who opens his hand to find a familiar, now rusty, crescent moon charm.

 

XIV.

Waiting is _agony_. Molly paces his apartment, periodically checking his makeup in his phone’s reflection and fussing with the flowers in a vase on the table. Ever so often, he’d go into the kitchen and check on the food, which would still be hot every time. But, what if the one time he doesn’t check, it goes cold? So that’s how Molly spends the ten minutes it takes before hearing Fjord’s voice to boom down the hall.

“It’ll only take a minute, Caleb, just go ahead! It should be unlocked.”

“Um, okay, if you say so.” Caleb’s voice gets louder and Molly scrambles to the door, fixing his curls and making sure his jewelry isn’t tangled. He holds his breath as the handle turns, clenching the crescent charm in his pocket.

Then the door pushes open and there’s Caleb, hair mussed and wearing his research cardigan. His eyes widen before squinting in the dark. “Mollymauk? Is that you?”  
And he breathes out. “Yeah, it’s me. Here, I’ll guide you.” Molly takes his wrist and leads him into the living room, watching the furrow of his brows melt away as he takes in the view.

“ _Was_ \- wow,” Caleb whispers before turning to look at him, his mouth falling open, “oh my.” He glances up to meet Molly’s eyes, head cocking. “I am very confused.”

Molly can’t help but laugh, maybe a touch hysterical. “I- I wanted to- do you-” he swallows, mouth suddenly dry, “damn it. Caleb, you can say no if you want, I know this is a _lot_ , but I would completely understand and you’re not obligated-”

“You still have not asked me anything,” Caleb interrupts, mouth quirked into a slight, awkward smile. His other hand is fiddling with the end of his sleeve.

Molly looks away, staring down at where he’s still holding his wrist. His heart’s lodged in his throat and he’s surprised he hasn’t choked on it. “Would you like to have dinner with me? As a date? Right now?”

Silence. Only the sound of his heart thumping away in his chest and the low classical music. Molly’s eyes immediately begin to burn beyond his control and he tries to blink away the tears before they make him look like a bigger fool.

“This is for me?” Caleb’s voice is almost too soft to hear and Molly’s head snaps up. Caleb’s eyes are wide, blue, and very, very surprised. Maybe even shiny. “You did all this for me?” He’s looking at the scarves, the lights, the record player, everything like they’re hallucinations.

“Yes,” Molly whispers, staring at the utter disbelief etched into Caleb’s face and then the tears trailing down his cheeks.

Caleb laughs as he pulls his wrist away to wipe at his face. “I’m sorry, I just- nobody has ever-” and he laughs again into his hands, “and now I’m the one lost for words.” He drops his arms to smile at Molly, beautiful and watery. “I would love nothing more than to go on a date with you, Mollymauk.”

Molly laughs because if he doesn’t, he thinks he might cry as well. He grabs Caleb’s hands and grins so big that it hurts. “Then dine with me, Caleb.”

 

It’s just like another one of their dinners, talking about their days and new interests. Except every minute or so, Molly just stares openly at Caleb, completely baffled at how he managed this. Caleb sometimes stops in the middle of speaking and either goes red and ducks his head, or talks for a while about how wonderful Molly is. Molly’s not really sure which he prefers more. He’s honestly surprised he manages to eat with how his stomach flips whenever Caleb looks at him with that awed expression.

As they finish their meal, Caleb suddenly sits up, head tilted, and goes still for a few moments. Molly’s about to ask what’s wrong when a shy smile breaks out onto his lips.

Caleb stands and holds out a hand, pink in the face. “May I have this dance, Mister Mollymauk?”

And then Molly hears it, the soft but unmistakable music of a waltz. He grins and takes the hand. “Of course, Mister Caleb.”

They laugh and smile as they dance around the room. Caleb takes the lead for a few minutes refreshing Molly’s memory before relinquishing it. Molly decides to make him regret that by dipping him; he delights in the way Caleb looks breathless and windswept.

Eventually, the song ends and another piece begins, but they don’t stop and instead ease into a slow sway. It’s terribly cheesy, but Molly certainly doesn’t mind since he can see how Caleb looks under various shades of light.

“Hello there, darling,” Molly mutters as they press closer, chest to chest, arms winding around Caleb’s waist. He’s warm, his cardigan soft to the touch, and so very handsome.

Caleb’s arms find their way around his neck. “Hallo, Schatz” he answers with a lazy smile. They sway for a moment before Caleb moves to cup Molly’s cheek, stroking along his tattoo. “Thank you.”

Molly leans into the touch and presses a kiss to his wrist. “You deserve this and more.”

Caleb’s eyes get impossibly softer, wonderfully blue and light. “You make me feel like I might believe that one day.” He reaches up to hold Molly’s face like something precious. “May I kiss you, Mollymauk?” Caleb asks, as delicate as the muted melody of violins even if there’s humor in his gaze.

“I would love nothing more.” Molly knows it’s been a long time coming, but as Caleb pulls him down and smiles against his mouth, he also knows it’s been worth every second.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry to those who read my last fic and were fooled by me saying "nearly done with the next one". I too was fooled then kept fighting with it and thought too much about things in this AU but I'm finally Done. Let me know if you see any mistakes!  
> Find me on tumblr at radiantword c:


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